"Well, if you're going to ask me those sorts of questions, what king of alcohol do you have?" she asked, taking a seat. She wasn't uncomfortable watching people cook; she didn't want to be in the way, but she was at least passable with knife skills. Communal kitchens, teenagers, the doctor at the school had gotten tired of patching them all up constantly.

"Formally, no. They've never sent me any legal indication of being disinherited, or of being served with a notice of no trespass. But seeing as I live very nearly on the opposing side of the planet, I don't know that they'd think it necessary," she amended with a sigh. "But the last time I spoke to my parents, they said they'd rather I be dead than mutant." So there's that. It was pretty final to Noriko.

"Why?"